


Sweep Me Off My Feet

by snowthunder



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, except Keith doesn't want to be enemies, they play soccer!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowthunder/pseuds/snowthunder
Summary: Lance McClain is a senior at Altea University, Captain of the school's Varsity Soccer Team, and he most definitelydoes not have a thing for the Marmora University Captain. Or at least that's what he tells himself.Welcome to the College Soccer AU that won't leave my brain alone!





	Sweep Me Off My Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seven league boots (memphis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memphis/gifts).



> So this was supposed to be a holiday present for the lovely [Memphis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memphis/pseuds/seven%20league%20boots) and it was also only supposed to be a one-shot, but the idea kind of snowballed and this will probably be upwards of 50k total, and I guess five months late isn't _that_ bad... 
> 
> BIG FUCKING THANK YOU TO [ thetolkiengeek ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetolkiengeek/pseuds/thetolkiengeek) FOR HOLDING MY HAND AND BEING MY BETA <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Senior year.

The last hurrah.

The collegial swan song.

Or, as Lance liked to think of it, the year he would make that conceited Kogane bastard from Marmora College eat turf.

Lance smiled as he stepped into the varsity soccer team’s locker room and flipped the switch, letting his eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lighting. The lockers were all shut tight with a new uniform resting beneath each one, neatly folded and waiting for its player. Lance was alone, but that was fine with him.

He walked around the edge of the room, taking his time absorbing the little details, the memories of the past three years of his life at Altea University--the small, cleat-sized dent Griffin had put into one of the benches after their disastrous Galra game last spring; the faded chili stain in the carpet from when Shay had surprised Hunk into dropping an entire crockpot after homecoming Sophomore year; the layer of kitschy smiley face stickers slapped onto Kinkade’s locker, built up little by little every season.

Lance stopped in front of his own locker, running his finger tips over his name plate at the top.

_MCCLAIN #10_

This was Lance’s year. This was _Altea’s_ year. They would come out on top, put those Galra assholes in their place, and finally show Marmora who was the strongest team in the league. This year, for sure.

Lance scooped up the jersey on his bench, revelling in the feel of the silky sports material. He had always loved getting new uniforms, and these were no exception. The crisp white jerseys boasted dramatic sweeps of electric blue down the sides and over the shoulders. On the chest, a round patch with the Altea school crest, a stylized V with a roaring lion in profile, stood out in grey and blue.

Allura had really outdone herself with the design this year.

It was early still, hours before the game, but Lance quickly undressed and slipped on the uniform anyways, eager to see how it looked. He hopped barefoot across the room to the small wall of floor length mirrors, and let himself admire the sight. However conceited it may have been, Lance couldn’t help but to think he looked good. The white of the jersey popped against his tan skin, and the blue accents highlighted the color of his eyes.

Lance’s smile widened.

This was definitely his year.

 

*•*

 

Lance’s team slowly trickled into the locker room as game time approached, ‘Hey, Captain!’s or ‘sup McClain!’s punctuating each arrival. Lance greeted them all warmly, throwing high-fives and finger guns freely. When his co-captain finally walked through the door, however, Lance full on koala-beared the guy.

“Hunk! Where have you been?”

Hunk chuckled, calmly continuing towards his locker as if a 6’2 Cuban boy was not currently wrapped around half of his body. “Sorry sorry,” he said, cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I, uh, I got caught up.”  

Lance released his death-grip on his best friend, eyeing him from the side. “Got caught up huh?”

“Yeah, you know,” Hunk cleared his throat. “Homework and stuff.”

“Hunk, classes don’t start until tomorrow.”

Hunk released the latch on his locker, swinging the door open to block Lance’s face. “Advanced mechie courses always start early, don’t worry about it.”

Beside them, James Griffin let out a snort. “Oh get off it, Garrett. Just admit that you and Shay were having ‘quality time’ together.”

Hunk ducked even further into his locker.

Lance pat him gently on the back. “Let’s leave him be, Griffin. He’s just shy and in love.” He swung open his own locker, pulling out his shin guards, cleats, and socks. “Besides, we have more important things to focus on today. Like the fact that those Marmora assholes are going down.”

Hunk blindly tossed his goalie gloves beside him, his voice echoing against the metal as he continued to rummage through his things. “Man, what is it with you and Marmora? They’re a decent team, and we’ve always gotten along with them outside of games.”

Lance plopped himself onto the beach. “What? I’m just trying to foster a healthy rivalry. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “A healthy rivalry that you alone have insisted on and haven’t let go of for three--no wait, four years?”

Lance shrugged. “It’s kept us on our toes.”

Someone across the room tried and failed to cover up a laugh.

“Uh huh, right.” Hunk finished tying off a cleat and leaned back against his locker. “And you’re sure this has nothing to do with a certain surly black-haired captain?”

Lance froze, one sock halfway up his calf. “Who, Kogane? No! No, of course not! Why would you think that?”

Hunk raised his other eyebrow.

“Oh, come on! You know I hate that guy. He’s always getting in my way.”

“We play a contact sport,” Ryan Kinkade monotoned from across the room. “He’s supposed to get in your way.”

“Well, whatever!” Lance stood abruptly, socks and shin guards forgotten. “Kogane may be a pain in my ass but he doesn’t matter.”

“What _does_ matter,” Lance continued, vehemently ignoring the “sure, Jan” he heard coming from Hunk’s direction, “is playing our best today and working together as a team. Now,” he bent down to scoop up the rest of his things, “I want to see everyone on the field in ten!”

 

*•*

 

The Altea soccer field was situated on the edge of campus, with a clear view of the river that wound around the school grounds. The metal stands glinted brightly in the sun, and the white and grey marble academic buildings glittered prettily in the distance. It was still warm outside, the summer stretching its fingers into the September day with the remnants of its strength. Lance knew it would start to cool off quicker and quicker as the fall settled in, so he was content to bask in this last bit of heat.

Lance and Hunk led the team through their group warm-ups, running them through laps around the field, sets of stretching, and various passing drills before breaking everyone off into smaller groups for position-specific exercises. Lance was flitting from group to group with the other midfielders when Allura flagged him over to the sidelines.

Lance jogged up to her, a lazy smile on his face. “Hey, Coach. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in with you before I called the team meeting.” She tucked a piece of her shocking white hair behind an ear as she looked down at a rather densely filled clipboard. “How does everyone look today?”

“Pretty good, I’d say. Griffin is feisty as usual, Park and Simmons seem a lot better since last week.” Lance tapped a finger to his chin. “Riley though… I think he might’ve had a fight with his boyfriend--he’s been passing wide today.”

Allura scribbled notes onto her already complicated chart. “Duly noted, thank you.”

Lance brushed her thanks aside with a flippant hand, but Allura smiled.

“No really, thank you. You always seem to know exactly where everyone’s heads are at.”

Lance saluted her with two fingers. “Just doing my job.”

“Well, you do it well.”

Allura’s eyes caught on something over Lance’s shoulder then. “Ah,” she said, raising an arm in greeting, “they’re here.”

Lance turned to where the Marmora team was currently walking across the field, dark grey and purple uniforms standing out in stark contrast to the bright day. Much like Altea, they were a pretty diverse team, no one set build or look to any of their players, which was probably why it was so easy to zero in on Kogane as he led his team to their set of benches.

It was bad enough that the guy was one of the best players Lance had ever competed against, but that the universe had also made him insanely attractive was deeply unfair. His dark black hair glinted almost blue under the sun, contrasting against his nearly ivory skin in a way that set Lance’s teeth on edge. Lance worked hard to keep his complexion smooth and clear, but this jerk had probably never touched a bottle of moisturizer in his life and he looked like _that._ The only thing that kept Lance from completely losing his mind was the guy’s unfortunate mullet.

Lance put his back to the incoming team and blew a short breath from his nose.

Allura raised a questioning brow. “Lance,” she said, though with her accent it came out more like L _aw_ nce. “Why is it that you must always make a fuss over the Marmora team?”

“I’m not making a fuss,” Lance protested, “I’m merely expressing my opinion.”

“A rather fussy opinion,” she muttered. “You know, I had quite hoped you would get over this...rivalry you’ve invented by now.”

“Invented!? Allura this is a very serious matter! Athletic life and death!”

Allura pursed her lips in a way that made Lance more than a little nervous. “You know, if it were Galra U, I might be able to understand your animosity, but we’ve always had a good relationship with Marmora.” She tapped one perfectly manicured nail on her clipboard. “This doesn’t have anything to do with one of their players does it?”

Lance rolled his head back, groaning. “For the last time, it has nothing to do with Kogane!”

Allura smirked. “I never said anything about him.”

“I--you--that’s not fair!” Lance squaked.

“Whatever you say,” Allura said, a laugh evident just beneath the surface. “Now please go fetch the team, I’d like to have a meeting while Marmora warms up.”

Lance trudged back to the field, grumbling about tricky wording and untrustworthy coaches. He ambled over to the goal where Hunk was currently working on stopping about three balls per minute from hitting the net behind him. Once he caught sight of Lance, however, he motioned to the next player lining up his shot to pause.

“Round them up?” Hunk asked, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Round ‘em up,” Lance answered, mimicking a lasso.

Lance knowingly plugged his ears as Hunk drew in a hearty breath.

“ALTEA, BRING IT IN!”

The entire field froze and turned in Hunk’s direction, drawn in by his boisterous call. Lance even spotted a few runners on the track and field pitch nextdoor who had stopped to stare.

Lance patted Hunk on the back with a smirk. “Thanks, big guy.”

Hunk smiled. “You got it.”

The two led their team back over to the sidelines as Marmora headed out for their own warm-ups. Lance caught sight of Kogane as they passed, his stupid, thick hair flouncing around his neck and shoulders, and he couldn’t quite help the urge to stick his tongue out at the guy. The jerk didn’t even have the decency to look affected though, simply raising a single eyebrow at Lance. After a second, however, his expression smoothed, and he raised a quick hand in greeting before moving past.

Lance clicked his tongue in annoyance, but caught sight of Hunk with a similar hand raised.

“Dude!” Lance protested. “You’re not supposed to fraternize with the enemy.”

“I don’t think waving ‘hi’ to a fellow team captain is exactly fraternizing, Lance,” Hunk replied calmly.

Lance clutched at his heart. “Unbelievable. Betrayed thrice in one day? On mine own soccer field?”

“It’s more likely than you’d think.”

“Oh that’s it! Your best friend card is revoked until further notice!”

Hunk simply chuckled as they reached the benches, the rest of the team settling in for the pre-game meeting. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

Allura, ever the efficient coach, kept the meeting short and sweet, detailing their starting line-up, substitution options, and general tactics for the game. Marmora was a quick and clever team, able to weave itself through most defenses and deal critical blows with swift precision. They were always a good match for Altea’s well-rounded, and versatile line-up. Hunk was, in Lance’s humble opinion, probably one of the best goalies in the league, his impressive build not at all offsetting his quick reflexes and speed. Coupled with a solid defense, an agile midfield, and a fearless front-line, Altea had earned itself quite the a reputation over the past few years.

Towards the end of the meeting, Coran, Allura’s enigmatic and energetic assistant coach, gave his usual spiel about fighting spirit, proper hydration, and kicking some serious quiznak--whatever that was. Four years and no one had been brave enough to ask him what the word meant.

As the team broke apart for the last few minutes of the allotted warm-up time, Lance surveyed the field from the bench, taking in the stands now half-filled with curious students and local residents. Not a bad turnout considering that classes hadn’t even started yet.

Lance skimmed his eyes across the rest of the pitch, noting those who were doing last minute stretching, others who were taking a few final practice penalty kicks, and even a handful of his own teammates who were chatting with some Marmora players at centerfield.

And okay, sure, the Marmora guys weren’t all that bad. Really, most of the teams in Altea’s league were pretty decent--Olkari Technical Institute and Garrison College notable among them. There was also Galra University, whose team was entirely comprised of Grade-A assholes, but that was another story entirely.

So, yes, Allura had a point--Altea and Marmora had always had a unique relationship, especially considering that the schools occupied opposite sides of the same town. It wasn’t uncommon to see some of the Marmora players downtown, or out at the local mall, so the two teams had long ago developed a friendly rapport.

But still, Lance couldn’t help but make a sour face whenever Marmora was mentioned. Everybody else seemed to get along fine with those guys, but there was just something that irked Lance anytime he thought of them, or saw them, or…

Lance’s attention snagged on a head of raven-dark hair, an intent, dark gaze pinning him to the spot. Kogane was further down the sideline at his own bench, standing beside his co-captain as they chatted with their coach, Kolivan, but his gaze never once left Lance’s. There was something in that stare that Lance couldn’t puzzle out, something almost like a challenge. It was hard to say, but either way Lance felt stuck, completely trapped by it until, ever so slowly, a small pink bubble expanded from Kogane’s lips before vanishing with an audible _pop!_ Lance bristled at the sound and he ground his teeth as he stomped away, leaving Kogane’s sly grin behind him.

Man, he hated that guy.

 

The referee blew his whistle sharply twice to call the captains’ meeting. As Lance and Hunk strolled across the field, Lance tried to impart on his best friend the severity of what had happened with a piece of Hubba Bubba Max not ten minutes prior, but, sadly, Hunk just wasn’t having it.

“Lance, really,” Hunk said, “it’s not that big of a deal. It was just a bubble.”

Lance scoffed. “It wasn’t ‘just a bubble,’ Hunk! It was a bubble and a smirk. That reeks of premeditation.”

“You make it sound like a murder,” Hunk muttered.

“Finally you’re getting it!”

Hunk merely sighed, shaking his head.

Lance greeted the ref, a slightly neurotic guy named Slav, before turning to the Marmora captains.

“Regris,” he said, the taller of the two boys nodding back to him, “always good to see you.” Lance examined his fingernails, a purse to his lips. “Kogane.”

“McClain.”

Hunk raised a sheepish hand. “Hi Keith, hi Regris.”

“Hey, Hunk,” Keith said amicably.

Lance shot Hunk a look, as if to say _really? Right in front of my salad?_

“All right!” Slav said, clapping his hands together. “Let us proceed with the coin toss to determine the kick-off--but first!” Slav pivoted rather abruptly into Lance’s personal space, blinking up at him with wide-eyes. “You. Adjust your captain’s armband up by four centimeters right this instant.”

“Umm...can I ask why?”

“Because!” Slav stepped back throwing his arms out wide. “The chances of that armband falling off during gameplay are at sixty-three point eight percent, and the chances of someone slipping on it are even higher! The optimal position for a captain’s armband is exactly four centimeters up from where yours currently sits, and it reduces the risk of slippage exponentially. Do you want to cause an incident of potentially catastrophic injury?!”

“...no?”

Slav pointed emphatically at Lance’s right arm. “Then shift your armband!”

Lance exchanged a quick look with Hunk, who merely shrugged, before every so slightly adjusting his armband to what he thought to be four centimeters higher up his arm. Slav leaned in close to inspect the adjustment and nodded approvingly.

“That’ll do,” he declared. “Okay! Coin toss! Marmora, call your choice.”

“We’ll take heads,” Kogane said.

Slav narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Very interesting,” Slav mused, holding his chin. He continued to stare at Kogane until Regris cleared his throat.

“Ref?”

“Yes?”

“The coin toss?”

Slav started at that, seeming to realize that he was, in fact, in the middle of a soccer game. “Oh! Yes yes. Okay, here we go!” He tossed the coin dramatically in the air, waiting with an open palm as it dropped back down. He flipped the coin over onto the back of his other hand, the shiny profile of George Washington glaring up at the small group.

“Oh, you’ve beaten the odds, well done!”

“Odds?” Hunk asked. “It’s a coin toss. It’s literally a fifty-fifty chance of--”

Lance slipped an arm around Hunk’s shoulder, covering his mouth with his free hand. “We should really get this game started! Marmora, choose your side.”

“We’ll stay where we are,” Kogane said, Regris nodding beside him.

Slav’s eyebrows twitched up. “Oh, really? Because switching sides would actually increase--”

“Fantastic!” Lance exclaimed, too eager to get away from Slav to comment over the smile he saw Kogane trying to tamp down. “And we get kick-off.” He took his arms away from where they rested around Hunk, offering his hand to Regris. “We all know the rules and promise to follow them, blah blah handshakes, and have a good game.”

He turned to Kogane then, offering his hand which the other captain took in his own grip. However eager Lance might have been to get away from his least favorite ref in the league, he was still sure to take a moment to make his handshake a tad firmer than necessary.

 

Marmora was good.

As much as the name brought a grimace to his face, Lance had never been able to deny that fact, and today was no exception. Within the first ten minutes of the match, Marmora had already thrown one of their signature tactics at Altea, drawing their defenses thin and allowing the Marmoran center striker to cut through them virtually unopposed.

Kogane flew across the turf, dribbling the ball with effortless ease as he sped towards the goal. Hunk shuffled further out into the goalie box, doing his best to take up more of Kogane’s target by getting closer to him. But even from his position back at midfield, Lance could foresee the outcome. Kogane pushed the ball before him just a bit further than normal, angled his body just so, and swung his leg through in a deadly kick.

Lance groaned in frustration as the ball flew from the ground, soaring right past Hunk’s outstretched hands, and crashing into the net with a dramatic _swish!_

The Marmora team cheered as the ref blew his whistle, converging on where Kogane was helping Hunk up from the ground.  

Griffin sidled up next to Lance, a wry grimace on his face. “Well, I guess the infamous Blade of Marmora hasn’t lost his touch since last season.”

Lance scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. It’s not like he’s David Beckham or anything.”

Griffin raised a brow but smirked as he walked back to centerfield for the next kickoff.

From there, the game developed a fierce but balanced pace, both teams giving just as much as they got. True to form, Altea retaliated quickly, scoring a clean shot off a corner kick. Marmora then returned the favor with a well-placed headshot, but Altea matched the point soon after as Lance made a long pass from mid-field all the way to Griffin at the opposing goal.

It may have seemed conceited, but Lance knew he was a key player in keeping the score so close and also in making Altea what it was today. While he might have come onto the team as a self-important freshman with an ego problem, he really had matured as a player over the years, quickly earning the respect and admiration of his teammates. He had worked hard to get where he was, putting in more after practice hours in the gym and on the field than he could count, and he wasn’t shy about claiming the skills all his hard work had earned him.

Especially not when he managed to break away from a couple of persistent Marmora defenders, rainbow the ball over his head and score a top post goal from quarterfield. His teammates whooped and cheered, crowding around Lance as he jogged back towards midfield, some even taking up dramatic sniper-like poses.  

“Nice shot, Sharpshooter.”

Lance turned to thank his complimenter, but the smile on his face faltered when he saw it was Kogane that had spoken. He was smirking oddly at Lance, cheeks flush with exertion as lines of sweat ran down his face and mixed with errant strands of his black hair. By all rights, he should have looked horrible having played nearly forty-five minutes of highly competitive soccer but Lance found himself annoyed just looking at the guy. He let out an indignant sniff and turned back towards his team, ignoring the soft chuckle behind him and the lingering heat in his cheeks.

 

By the time the game was nearing the end of the second half Lance was running on Jell-O legs. Sure, he had been training all summer and was more than in-shape, but the first game of the season was always the worst, his body reacclimating to the stamina needed for an hour and a half of intense gameplay.

Despite his growing fatigue, though, Lance didn’t let up once, giving every pass, every shot on goal his all.

Ten minutes to go and Altea was up by one. His team was tired, that was evident, but they were still playing a solid game. Everyone was working together like the well-oiled machine that they were, calling out passes, and keeping each other on-sides. Marmora was certainly giving them a run for their money, that was for sure, but Lance thought that maybe they’d had a shot at taking this first game of the season.

Just then, a Marmoran left-wing broke away from the Altean defense, taking the chance to make a shot on goal. He drew back and kicked, the ball soaring to the far side of the net, looking for all intents and purposes like it was going to go in. Hunk was there in a flash, however, neatly snatching the ball from the air and tucking it under one arm.

“Yes!” Lance pumped a fist in the air. “Hunk, you’re a dream!” he called down the field.

“I know!” Hunk shouted back with a grin.

The players began to backpedal from the goal now that the ball was out of reach in Hunk’s hands, and it was then that Lance saw it. The slim runway of an opening through the Marmoran right side that led straight back to their goal.

Hunk must have seen it too, because not a moment later he was shouting Lance’s name and whipping the ball in that direction.

Lance took off from the Altean quarter-field, trusting his teammates to move around him as he needed. He kept his head angled to the side as he sprinted, keeping an eye on both the Marmoran players and the ball currently flying overheard. He fielded the ball neatly, bouncing it gently down to the turf from his chest and ran, maintaining a tight, controlled dribble. Lance’s focus zeroed in on the goal, everything beyond his direct line of sight and the burning of his tired muscles melting away.

That is, until suddenly his feet were somehow no longer beneath him and the grass of the turf was rushing up to meet him. Lance landed hard, catching all of his weight on his hands and knees, and watched as Kogane ran off in the other direction, the ball at his feet and the most infuriating grin on his face.

Lance struck the ground with a dull thud. “Ref! That was clearly a tackle!”

Slav jogged by chasing after the play that was moving down the field. “There is only a two-point-three-eight-nine percent chance he actually made contact with your body. No foul!”

“Oh come on!”

The play-ending whistle that followed not a moment later only worked to heighten Lance’s anger.

Heaving himself up from the grass, Lance trudged back to his side of the field locking eyes with Kogane as the other captain did the same. Lance felt his eyes narrow. Kogane only raised a brow.

“Don’t hate the player hate the game, McClain.”

“I’ll hate whatever I damn well please.”

Kogane shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Lance ground his teeth together the rest of the way back to the Altean side. Griffin gave him a curious glance as he passed the center-field line.

“You good?”

“I. Hate. Him.”

Lance could hear more than a few teammates snickering as he retook his place at mid-field.

 

The game ended in a tie, 4-4. Which, somehow, made Lance even more annoyed than if they had just lost outright.

Both teams lined up at the edge of the field and filed past one another, players exchanging handshakes and pats on the backs for a game well played. Lance and Hunk rounded out the Altean line in the usual captains’ spots, with Allura and Coran trailing leisurely behind. Lance did his best to keep a pleasant, neutral expression on his face, but he found it increasingly difficult with every step that took him closer to Kogane.

When he finally came face to face with the guy Lance was almost at a loss for what to do. Stick his tongue out? Ignore him? Shake his hand too hard? The options were endless, really.

Hunk, however, didn’t seem to have the same dilemma, instead stepping around Lance and offering his hand.

“Good game you guys!” He shook Kogane’s and Regris’ hands in turn. “Definitely one hell of a way to start the season.”

“Solid as usual, Hunk,” Regris said. “You might snag an MVP All-League spot this year.”

“Me?” Hunk looked about ready to fan himself with his hand. “No way, I’m not _that_ good.”

“I’ve played against a lot of goalies,” Kogane offered. “Trust me, you’re ‘that good’.” He turned towards Lance, a small smile playing at his lips. “You too, McClain. Great shots today.”

Lance turned his nose up and huffed.

Sparks of pain shot up his leg as Hunk delivered a discreet but solid kick to Lance’s ankles. “Lance, be nice.”

“Sheesh okaaaay.” Lance rubbed at his leg. “Don’t break the moneymakers. But you,” he pointed at Kogane with as menacing a glare as he could muster, “I am so getting you back for that stunt you pulled earlier.”

Kogane raised a single brow, his lips twitching slightly. “Is that a threat or a promise, McClain?”

“It’s both.”

“Looking forward to it then.”

Lance searched the guys face for a moment, hoping to find annoyance or even maybe anger--something beyond the odd glint to his eyes and eager half-smile. Huffing out a breath, Lance turned back towards the Altea bench, letting the cool breeze coming off the river cool his heated cheeks.

The patter of quick steps from behind told Lance that Hunk had caught up. “Dude, you have _got_ to figure out your thing with Keith.”

Lance jerked his head up. “I don’t have a _thing_ with Kogane.”

“Lance, I say this with the utmost love--but that was really gay.”

“Are you sure that Antok didn’t kick you in the head before? Because I think he might have kicked you in the head.”

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Avoid it all you like, but I think there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Lance wiped a fake tear from his face. “Definitely got kicked in the head. This is so sad, Alexa, play Despacito.”

Hunk threw his hands up in defeat. “Oh my god,” he groaned, “you’re impossible.”

“Thank you.”

Lance watched with a small smirk as Hunk walked away, shaking his head and muttering unintelligibly. After a moment, however, his expression fell a touch, something resonating sourly with him.

The whole Kogane thing shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but with everyone else on his team convinced that there was some hidden truth beneath the surface it was kind of hard to not be a bit defensive about the subject. Lance wasn’t sure what exactly they all had going through their heads, but there wasn’t anything more to him and Kogane than a good old fashioned rivalry.

Besides, Lance had bigger fish to fry. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by a few teasing comments and some know-nothing smirks.

There was a league championship with his name on it, and Kogane was the last person Lance was going to let get in his way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're inclined towards lengthy beach aus with lots of feels, consider reading my other fic, [ Salty Kisses ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14992508), co-authored with the amazing [ thetolkiengeek ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetolkiengeek/pseuds/thetolkiengeek). 
> 
> I can also be found on tumblr by the same name: [ snowthunder ](https://snowthunder.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and stick around for more! ^_^


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